Picking Up the Pieces
by MistoMan
Summary: Misto has never known what love is, and is always trying to mend his broken heart. MistoXJemima & MistoXVictoria... These stories based on true events. Chapter 2 is up! R&R please!
1. Chapter 1

Picking Up The Pieces

Author's note/disclaimer: While I do not own Cats or any other character in this work, please bear in mind that all of these stories, down to the last detail (with a few minor exceptions), are completely and utterly true. This work is a reflection of my life, lived out through the lives of ALW and TSE's characters...

Chapter 1: Jemima

Mistofelees stared out at the blazing sun casting its warm rays over an open field on a bright and early Sunday morning. The light reflected against all of the cats in the field, but it shone brightest on a young, but nonetheless very beautiful queen.

Misto had known her, as he was fairly well acquainted with all of the junkyard cats; but in this moment he noticed how truly beautiful she was. _Jemima_, Misto thought, _She truly is the embodiment of perfection... how could I have never noticed this before?_

The rest of the day was a blur, as Jemima danced pleasantly through Misto's thoughts. He never spoke of his love for Jemima to anyone, keeping it inside of his inner recesses. During the passing nights, she appeared to him in his dreams, writing notes to him of their love together. These visions pleased the eager young tom all the more, and he slept soundly in love for the first time in his life.

Day after day and year after year passed, and Mistofelees knew that he had to win her love. One day he finally found his courage and walked up to her.

"Jemima" Her ears perked when she heard her name.

"Jemima, there's something I have to tell you."

She waited for him to continue.

"Jemima, I"- he paused for a split second – "I… I like you Jemima. I really like you."

She continued to stare at him, all the while growing in beauty in Misto's eyes.

"And I was wondering," he grinned sheepishly, "if you want to like me back?"

Jemima stared at him softly. Misto, being a young tom, did not notice the awkwardness that was blatantly obvious on her face.

"Misto," she started, hesitating to continue, "I like you as a friend." She paused. "Nothing more, okay?"

Misto barely noticed, he was so in love with her, "Uh, sure, that's fine," he replied. He didn't know what to say. He had worked himself up so hard for this moment, that in his mind he they were already kissing. He was going to love her, and somehow, he knew, that she _would_ love him back, that his dreams _would_ come true. He would do whatever it took to make it so.

Several months later, Mistofelees was listening to his older cousin Demeter talking about her recent engagement to Munkustrap.

"And he wrote me a book," Demeter blushed, "It was about a boy named Munkustrap and a girl named Demeter. And in the final chapter, he said that he had one more surprise for me- I looked down and he proposed to me!" Demeter gushed with pride and swooned into his arms.

Misto's ears perked at the mention of this idea. _Perhaps a story will make Jemima fall in love with me._ She appeared to him in his dreams again, whispering that soon they would be going out. Invigorated with love, he set about writing Jemima a love novel.

Time passed and Misto began to realize that whatever he was doing wasn't working- Jemima rarely had comments on the beautifully romantic stories that he gave to her, and she was growing more distant with each conversation they had.

Misto was lying on his bed dreaming of her when his friend Pouncival came up to him.

"Misto!" he cried out in his energetic voice. "Misto, you're not going to believe this!"

Mistofelees stood up and faced Pouncival. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

"I was just talking to Jemima over by the lamppost."

"My Jemima?" By this time, Misto had confessed his love for her to his best friend.

"Yes, the one you've told me about. I introduced myself to her and I figured that this had to be the same Jemima."

Misto's ears perked.

"What did she say? Did you ask her about me?"

Pouncival nodded slowly.

"Pounce, what is it?"

Pouncival spoke slowly, hesitantly. "She was surprised that I knew you, seeing as we're from different ends of the junkyard and all…"

"And?," Misto pleaded impatiently.

Pouncival answered back "She said, 'Well, he's this weird kid who follows me around the junkyard. It's disturbing.'"

He quickly noticed that Misto's face had sunk deeper than he'd ever seen it before.

"Misto, I-" he began. He stumbled over his next words, "Misto, she told me not to say anything to you."

Misto looked more hurt than ever by those cold words of dread.

"Misto, are you okay? Do you need-"

Mistofelees looked up at him, his face burning with white hot rage. Before Pouncival could finish his sentence, Misto ran off into the nearest woods and roared in pain at the top of his lungs.

Pouncival looked after his friend, praying that he would be okay.

Throughout the next few nights, tortured screams of loneliness and abrasion echoed out from the dark, harrowing woods.

- - -

Time had passed, and Misto was still painfully distraught about Jemima's bitter unconfessed hatred of him.

_She could have at least told me herself,_ he thought as he cried himself to sleep. _She didn't have to go behind my back to crush my dreams._

His heart throbbed in pain as he slept at night, weeping as he tried to hold onto all that was left of his broken, shattered heart.

* * *

**A/N: R & R please. This is my first fanfic, btw, so please don't be too critical. I also wrote this kind of fast- it shows- but I'll update soon and probably revise this as needed.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2- Victoria Part I

A/N: Hello all! Thanks for the very encouraging reviews! Here is Kapitel Zwei (that's German for chapter 2) of this fanfic. Oh, and to answer some questions in the reviews, these stories are all based on events that happened to me, so Misto me. Jemima and Victoria are separate former loves of mine. Pounce and Plato are both my friends. Sorry these stories are not totally complete, trust me, it's hard to sum up years time in a few pages. Also, the cats here are humanoids because they're really just aliases for real people (i.e., they're humans that look like cats).

It had been almost two years since Jemima had shattered Misto's heart. He hoped that he would never again have to suffer from a heartache as profound as that one. Little did he know what lurked in his future.

It was the last day of a semi-eventful school year when Misto began to fall in love with Victoria. He had met her a few weeks back at a cast party for the spring musical. He was instantly amused with her outgoing style and was mystically intrigued with her ability to finish his sentences.

_Perhaps there is potential for love in Victoria_, Misto thought.

During the summer, Misto dreamed of Victoria constantly; he had never had this happen to him before. He had only dreamed of Jemima twice in his life before this day; he dreamed of Victoria over forty times, most of them consecutively. Misto knew, he just knew that one day he and Victoria would be together.

Unlike Jemima, Victoria was not secretly disgusted with his constant talking to her. She was rather amused by his sentiments on life, which were very similar to hers. They hugged each other constantly; both were very physically affectionate, though in a friendly, sibling-like manner.

Misto tried his best to admit his feelings to Victoria, but he just could not bring himself to do it. _She might run away from me, just like Jemima did_, Misto thought. _I don't want Victoria to hate me like she does._

Despite Misto's feelings of inadequacy, he had noticed that none of the other toms seemed to take in interest in Victoria. Until one night...

It was Friday night, and most of the teenkits had gone out to start their weekends. Misto was amongst a group of four other cats that had gone for the evening of fun. Victoria was there, and so were her friends Electra and Etcetera. The only other male present was Plato.

Plato was similar to Misto in a few aspects, but apart from that, the two were completely different. Misto was taller than the average cat and Plato was shorter. Despite his lack of height, Plato was one of the strongest toms in the junkyard; Misto could barely lift a few pounds to save his life. While Plato was bold and outgoing, Misto was a bit shier in nature, especially since the Jemima incident.

As soon as Misto noticed Plato talking to Victoria, he instantly became afraid. He sensed the chemistry between them, and knew that someday Plato would be a threat to his love for Victoria.

Misto would have moved in on Victoria that night were it not for his inner fears of rejection and hatred. He was never quite sure how Victoria felt about him; there were times when she seemed as if she could love him back, and there were others where she appeared infatuated with Plato.

Time began to pass faster and faster, the days turning into weeks and the weeks into months.

Finally, five months later, and still no closer to admitting his love for Victoria, Misto began to notice an increase in the amount of time she spent talking to Plato. The two talked on the phone long into the night. Misto was worried that Victoria had fallen for Plato. He decided to ask her to calm his fears.

"Victoria"

Her ears perked when she heard her name.

"Misto," she said sweetly. "How are you?"

"Fine," Misto gulped. "Just fine. Say, I have a question for you."

"What is it?" asked Victoria.

"It's about you and Plato. Are you guys going out?"

Victoria laughed pleasantly.

"So you're not?" Misto asked quietly.

Victoria never answered, but instead kept laughing with Misto. He exhaled a sigh of relief, knowing that if something, _anything_ were happening between the two, Victoria would have told him so.

That afternoon, Misto noticed something that nearly cut his heart in half. He saw Victoria and Plato holding hands together walking down one of the alleys. He joined them quickly to try and find out what was going on.

Before he could ask the two, Victoria had to leave the group to go practice her dancing. Plato and Misto were left alone. Worried that Victoria had lied to him, Misto decided to ask Plato about the two of them.

"Hey Plato," he asked, "Are you and Victoria going out?"

"We are," Plato answered back quietly.

"Oh," said Misto, trying not to let the disappointment show on his face. He and Plato were close enough of friends that he decided to confess his love right then and there.

"You know, Plato," Misto started, "I've actually liked Victoria this entire time."

Plato responded, "Really? I thought so. I'm surprised that you didn't ask her out a few months ago. You certainly showed interest in her."

"No, my friend, you win," said the surprisingly calm Misto. "You got their first. Congratulations."

Plato stared at him intently, "You're not going to kill me?"

Misto looked at his friend, who was obviously twice as much of a fighter as he was, with wide eyes. "What do you mean?"

Plato said, "I was afraid you would kill me if I told you."

Misto, who had no reason to be angry at Plato, responded softly, "No, you're my friend. I'm not going to kill you."

"Thanks," said the smaller tom.

Misto left Plato alone and ran back to his house.

Late into the night, Misto crawled up to the top of a junk pile and passionately sang of his broken heart, tears streaming down his face, his throat tensing up with each note.

"I can't live without you Victoria!" he sang. "I see your eyes in the moonlight! I love you, I need you!"

Misto cried himself to sleep that night, knowing that his chances at love may have been gone for good.

A/N: Yeah, again, sorry if this is short, it's exam week next week and I haven't updated in a while, so I wrote this fast to fill you in. This chapter is one of three parts about Victoria. Btw, the song that the real Misto (aka me) sang that night was "Without You" by Jonathan Larson from Rent, but the site says you can't put song lyrics up, so I made something up. That night was one of the worst nights of my life... Sorry this is kind of emo-ish.


End file.
